the one proved grossly superstitious and the other exhibited a degree of faithlessness that one does not expect to find in a hound. The king had a favourite greyhound called Mithe, his constant attendant, and so attached to his master that it would follow no one else. One day Henry, Duke of Lancaster and the king were talking together, when suddenly Mithe left his royal master and commenced to fawn upon the duke, whining and showing such pleasure as he had never before done to a stranger or even to a guest. Lancaster expressed his astonishment at the behaviour of the greyhound, but the king said, Cousin, this bodeth great good for you, as it is an evil sign for me. That greyhound acknowledgeth you here this day as King of England, as ye shall be, and I shall be deposed. Mithe knows this naturally, so take him; he will follow you and forsake me." And the story concludes that ever after the dog forsook the weak and vacillating Richard II., became the companion of his "cousin," and, in the end, affairs turned out as the king had prognosticated. At least, so our English history

informs us.

There appears to be some fatality attending these royal attachments to the greyhound; for we have Charles I. with one as a companion. Methinks," said he to Sir Philip Warwick, "I hear my

dog scratching at the door. Let in Gipsy." Whereupon Sir Philip, who opened the door and let in the monarch's favourite, took the boldness to say: "Sir, I perceive you love a greyhound better than you do a spaniel?" "Yes," replied the King, "for they equally love their masters, and yet do not flatter them so much." This unfortunate monarch met his death on the scaffold.

But let us leave these troublous times, and at once enter upon that epoch in the history of the greyhound when he was used much in the same fashion as he is to-day. In Elizabeth's reign the first rules and regulations as to coursing were drawn up at the instance of the Duke of Norfolk, and they are very similar to those of the present day. That dog which led to the hare, won, if no other points were made; the hare had to have twelve score yards law; two wrenches stood for one turn; a go-bye was equal to two turns. If a dog that led and beat his opponent stood still in the field, and refused to go further, he lost the course; if, by accident, a dog was run over in his course, the trial was void, and he who did the mischief had to make reparation. There were other regulations likewise, but this short summary will show how closely they approach the rules in force at the present time.

In 1776, the Earl of Orford established the

Swaffham (Norfolk) Coursing Club, the earliest of its kind, and contemporary writers tell us this was the turning point in the popularity of the pastime. In 1798, the club numbered twenty-four members, there being one vacancy, and in addition there were a lady patroness, the Marchioness of Townsend; vice patroness, Countess of Cholmondeley; assistant vice patroness, Mrs. Coke, and one honorary member, the Earl of Montraith. Following Swaffham in 1780 the Ashdown Park Meeting was established by Lord Craven, Lord Sefton, and Lord Ashbrook, and this exists at the present time, and is by far the oldest established coursing meeting we possess. The Altcar Club, established in 1825, and the Ridgway Club, in 1828, still amongst the leading meetings of the year, are well supported, and appear to have a long and useful existence in front of them. Swaffham was resuscitated on more than one occasion, and in 1892 a meeting was held there. Other old fixtures that may be mentioned are Malton, in 1781; Louth, 1806; Newmarket, 1805; Midlothian, 1811; Ardrossan, established a few years later, and, although there is no specific date given, the keeper of the "Stud Book" believes that the Biggar meeting was in existence prior to the present century, but, like many other of the early gatherings, it has long been discontinued.

Mention has already been made of Lord Orford, a nobleman of great sporting proclivities, and of unusual eccentricities. If reliance can be placed upon the "Sportsman's Cabinet," published in 1803, and I believe there is nothing to the contrary, it contains some particulars of greyhound coursing just prior to that date that may be of interest. His lord

ship's bitch Czarina is said to have won forty-seven matches without being beaten. She had no puppies until about thirteen years old, when she gave birth to eight, all of which lived and coursed. The last match that Czarina ran took place when her owner, confined to the house, was supposed to be watched by an attendant. However, just as the two greyhounds were slipped, Lord Orford, looking wild, as he was, and ill, came on to the field riding his piebald pony, and no one could restrain him from his anxiety to view the course and gallop after the dogs to see his favourite bitch win, which she did. The trial was barely over when Lord Orford fell from his pony, and, pitching on his head, expired almost immediately.

Afterwards his greyhounds were sold, and Czarina with the pick of the kennel purchased by Colonel Thornton, at prices ranging from thirty guineas to fifty guineas apiece. These appear to be pitiful sums when compared with the 850 guineas Fullerton

produced in the sale ring in 1888, and, though the matches run by Czarina cannot be compared with the work done by our existent crack, both having, comparatively speaking, a similar record, the two may be placed side by side.

Major Topham's pure white dog Snowball, up to the close of last century, was said to be the best greyhound yet produced, and was a cross between the Norfolk and Yorkshire strains, each equally fashionable at that time. Snowball won ten pieces of plate and forty matches, and his owner accepted every challenge that was made for him to run, irrespective of the kind of country, rough hills, abounding with fences, or otherwise. Whether the greyhounds of that day had greater staying powers than those of the present time, or were not so handy with their teeth, or the hares were stronger, we know not, but Snowball's chief performance was in a course "extending over four miles without a turn, including a hill half a mile (sic) in height, twice ascended." He is said to have run this trial with his sister, whom he beat, killing the hare close to Flexton. A dog like Master McGrath would have saved himself such a long trial by reason of his extraordinary skill with his teeth. Now, a greyhound must not only be fast, but a "good killer," to prove of extraordinary merit. Courses of four miles, "up